The Start

I look over at John "Stamina" Stamstad, who has a grin on his face and a dust mask around his neck, and I start wondering what the energizer bunny knows that I don't. To no one in particular, I ask how bad is the dust? Someone replies back, "not bad if you stay far enough back and don't care about passing."

With a noon LeMan's start under the blistering Canadian sun, hundreds of racers hyperventilate their way up a steep, dusty goat trail, around a single overworked tree and back down to their bikes. Then the real race begins.

"It all happened too fast, but the images of flying through the air and landing in a heap are so clear. My cupped hand, a bulldozer collecting dirt as it drags across the ground, flings its load into my face as fast as gravity finishes what I started..."

By 4 pm, I'm having bad luck — two flats on as many laps, plus, I can't seem to stay on my bike! I have been over my handlebars three times already and it's started to rattle my cage. Defending champion Greg Blackwell has a 15 minute lead on John Stamstad who has a 10 minute lead on me. We are riding 11-mile laps at about the same pace as most of the four- and five-person teams. The good news is the temperature is starting to cool down from 90°. My race support, Elaine Marquez, is maintaining a perfect flow of GU and XL-1 and in spite of the three crashes, my Wilderness Trail Bike is running smoothly.

Beaten Down

TriLife put together a new course that rolls around an 11-mile loop of dirt roads and freshly cut trails. Most of the 1600 feet of climbing per lap is on dirt road, but there are some nice surprise pitches of steep trail to keep racers on their toes. This doesn't sound too bad, until you get 70 teams ripping up the trails for 24 hours. Pretty soon the wash boards are so deep they start feeling like bomb craters and rocks keep popping up in the wrong places, as if they have legs of their own.

"Pat went down hard on a night lap and recalls waking up and wondering what happened, of course he does not remember the fall, he was asleep..."

11 pm and the trail has been completely ground to moon dust. Nothing is comparable to a good halogen light to bring awareness to the amount of dust I'm sucking into my hoover-like lungs. The image of black lung disease finally forces a dust mask around my face. As always, I kick myself for not doing this sooner, but with this new found relief I start getting back into the groove.

I am picking up the pace on the hill climbs but holding on for fear of injury on the descents. It is in this groove that Stamina-man appears suddenly behind me, makes a friendly remark and just as quickly drops me. Of course, I tried to keep up, I was mad now! Only 11 hours into the race and there he is, already lapping me. A bad night, made worse.

The Kokanee race brings together some of the most talented of the elite racers from around North America to form teams in the hopes of being the top dogs. The four person elite teams are in a race all their own. Keeping a brutal and consistent pace, their lap times are around 55 minutes. This is pretty incredible considering the amount of dust and the trail conditions.

The Adrenalin race at Silver Star is promoted to have the strongest men's solo field of any race this year. In the women's solo field, Janice Giesinger and Zuzzanna Schramm are putting on quite a show, with just 30 minutes separating them, their race is too close to call. In the two-man division, it's the Monkey Boyz from Bellingham, WA. who are showing they can ride more than just mossy trails on rainy days, and are kicking some serious Canadian butt.

Still standing

3 am, it all happened too fast, but the images of flying through the air and landing in a heap are so clear. My cupped hand, a bulldozer collecting dirt as it drags across the ground, flings its load into my face as fast as gravity finishes what I started. To add insult to a face full of dust, Stamstad is riding full speed down the trail and laps me for the second time tonight. Another solo rider Pat Irwin stops to see if I need help. Pat went down hard on a night lap and recalls waking up and wondering what happened, of course he does not remember the fall, he was asleep.

The psychological impact of constantly falling shakes my confidence which leads to caution, overuse of the front brake and more crashes. If I can just get through this nightmare without breaking my neck I'll be so happy. My other dreadful image is of Stamstad lapping me for the third time; a wonderful incentive to push a little harder, get back to business and stop looking back so much.

6 am, with the pre-dawn glow of morning and a full moon in the western sky, I know the sun is rising over somewhere in the east, hope is in the air. I am almost at the end of the tunnel, and unlike other 24 hour races this night has not been through the tunnel of love. I especially like the morning, there is something about seeing more than 20 feet past my front tire that is refreshingly uplifting not only to my spirits but also to my pace.

"Waves of chills pass through me. Except for the one time I stopped to puke, I've stopped sweating..."

A Canadian racer, Troy Lynn, has been going steady all night and is within 20 minutes of me. Elaine says, "he looks strong, so you better get back to business and put some time on him or else." Pat Irwin looks like Pig Pen right out of Charlie Brown and is slowing down. The energizer bunny Stamstad has also been steady and ends the night of misery with a two lap lead. As for most, the dust had a profound impact on him. Somewhere in the night, Greg Blackwell pulled out because of knee problems. The night of the living dust was the cause of many solo rider's demise.

7 am , a bad night can mean the need to have a good day. With four hours left, Troy Lynn hot on my trail and Stamstad way out in front, I put down two fast laps to maintain my lead and keep second place. As long as I can hold on till the end, I've got it.

10 am, I have been doing the math and have figured out that only if I have a big mechanical can Troy catch me. With this new found liberation, I turn my focus to getting through each lap without walking. After the first lap, I had set a goal of not walking any part of the course, but now with the site of so many people pushing their bikes and the growing heat, I start wondering if its worth keeping that goal. Of course, I think this way until I get to the base of the climb, but what the hell, I hate to push my bike so I just grind and bear it.

11:20am, the heat is cranked up full blast. Waves of chills pass through me. Except for the one time I stopped to puke, I've stopped sweating. The urge to hang out at the top of the last downhill is highly tempting. The image of Troy Lynn riding by as I sit waiting for the gun to signal the end of the race keeps me going.

All said and done

Lap 17 is coming to a fast end. The thought of going back out for another lap seems like a punishment. I could just stop and wait, take my chances with Troy, I think I'm a lap up on him but I can't remember. I felt lucky for making all the climbs the last lap, can I do it again? Just as my mind was going into overload, Janice Giesinger rode up with her warm, encouraging manner. She pushed me up the steep climbs and I did my best to stay in front on the downhills. Janice made fast work of me on an especially steep drop and off she went first place in hand, but leaving me with the momentum to finish that 18th lap in style.

— Pat Norwil, Mountain Zone Correspondent
Norwil, of Mazama, Washington, finished 2nd.